Try to bring this picture to mind – five middle-aged men in a barn, one holding a microphone, one talking at length and three more standing round muttering. They are either about to deny allegations about their past or discuss our new Men in Sheds project.
If you listen to radio Nottingham at around 11.00 tomorrow morning you may hear me. I’m the one heard answering “About this big.” as I hold my hands apart to the microphone. It’s not great radio, but I’m working on the basis that if you’re good at things they will ask you again.
Assuming that you miss it, because the lead time is short and the time is imprecise, it should be available on some sort of archival player (I’m hazy on technological detail) for a month or so. However, I’m in a good position to tell you that it won’t be worth the effort of finding it.
Meanwhile we are doing farm stuff – trying to teach people the six times table so they can count the eggs after we’ve boxed them up. It’s not as easy as you’d think. We’ve also had a cut-throat session of Hangman – I came close to being hanged searching for Family Guy and repaid the compliment by hanging the group by going for zip. I nearly got them with jive too, but they squeaked in with one limb left. What you need to win at Hangman is an overly competitive attitude (or so Julia tells me) and a selection of short words featuring unusual letters. (I checked up this strategy on the internet – a sure sign of being unsuitably fixated on winning, but after the “dik-dik affair” I decided not to rely on unusual names.)
For those of you unfamiliar with the full details of the “did-dik affair” I did try to insert a link but can’t remember which post originally had details. What happened was that I was banned from playing Hangman by Julia after I used the name of an obscure antelope
which caused far too much hilarity (and repetition of the words dik-dik) amongst our clients. It’s not the first time she’s had occasion to put the dampers on me in our 26 years of marriage and won’t be the last.